Wizards and Sorcery
by Finwitch1
Summary: Story set in a time after the end of the Epilogue of Polgara the Sorceress, crosses over Harry Potter whose on his fifth year, while Geran's beginning his first. AUfic to Order of the Phoenix. Updated 24 September 2008. Sorry it's been long.
1. Default Chapter

Prologue - Belsambar's return  
  
Geran was visiting his relatives in the Vale of Aldur. It was nothing special, really; he did that every summer. His mother and little sister stayed at Aunt Pol's cottage while Geran visited Belgarath and Poledra in a stump-like tower, or possibly the sorcerer twins, Beltira and Belkira, who also shared a tower. One of the very best things about these yearly visits was the food. Both the twins and Aunt Pol were excellent at cooking. Geran thought that them being sorcerers had something to do with it, if only by providing them with long enough lifespan learn how to cook properly.  
  
The Vale was dominated by a huge tree, which was one of a kind so far as Geran knew. The tree that had never born fruits of any kind - or so Belgarath had told him. Then again, the Tree was way older than Belgarath, so it might have, while Belgarath wasn't around to notice. Geran wished Aldur would be around so he could ask, but He and other gods had left for other Worlds. Oddly enough, they had visited when Aunt Pol's twins were born. Geran figured that they might all come back one day. Geran liked to sit and lean his back against the Tree's bark. Sometimes Geran called it the Tree of Time, for it gave each and everyone the lesson of time. That time was not made of hours or minutes, but that time existed. That time was but one quality, but one dimension, eternal the way length and width were eternal.  
  
Dals spoke of Ages, which Geran thought was quite good for recording history. At least it wasn't as boring and confusing as the Tolnedran way where each Dynasty begun numbering from I so there was about three or so Ran Honeth Is and so the whole matter was way too confusing to be practical. That was one reason why Geran would prefer an Alorn teacher - they counted years from a single event, not name it after which Dynasty happened to be ruling in Tolnedra. Tolnedran count of history was more concerned of emphasising how very much better Tolnedrans were than other nations, and how much better the current imperial family was than any other family. At this point, the current Emperor was adopted Borune. The previous emperor had been his mother's father, so Geran was a Borune himself trough his mother's side. But all that praise and ranting was, if anything, just boring.  
  
Still, Geran was a Rivan, and was expected to be a Rivan Crownprince, Alorn Prince. Geran knew that it wouldn't do to number Brands. It would make them individuals, and the whole point of naming the warder as Brand was to eliminate individual glory to the office. Brand was Brand and that was that. It had been an endless argument between him and his teacher. That argument was the only interesting part of the lessons, the rest was so boring he had trouble to stay awake. Showing stubbornness, which among Rivans could only be seen as a virtue, Geran refused to number Brands. He also refused to express time with Tolnedran concepts, and used the most interesting Calendar there was, the Calendar of Ages by Dals, though he had to admit that it was partly to annoy his teacher. It begun earlier than any other, it was peculiar, it noted Events rather than years, so Geran was happy to account that one.  
  
The First Age of Man. The time when gods had chosen their people, except for Aldur. Dals, the non-chosen, were parted in their search for god, some became Ulgos, some ended when Dals discovered what their task was. Near this time, if not exactly the same time, was when Torak stole Aldur's Orb and Cracked the World with it. Alorn's count their years from THAT event, calling it Erastide. First Alorn king and all development of Aloria begun during that War, and Geran figured it was, thus, historically, a good time to begin the calendar of Alorns. Still, as much as the Crack of the World counted for Aloria, Awakening of the Orb was what Geran reckoned that at least the Rivans should call the beginning of their Calendar. It was practically SAME time, but by spiritual nature, Orb's awakening was more suited to Rivans.  
  
Then again, they could begin it from when Riva took the Orb-which signified another change of the Ages, beginning the Third Age. For practical reasons, however, the Awakening was better, or rather, do as Dals and name these as changes of Ages. For religious reasons, Geran favoured Dalish Calendar, although trying to find Events with the Orb in it. The Orb's arrival, It's awakening, It's bounding with Riva Irongrip, It's restoring of Durnik, the time it was Crimson, the time it met it's kin, Sardion. All Rivans were in favour of this, and supported him. It was that Tolnedran who, despite of all reason, insisted that Tolnedran Calendar was way better. Geran, however, saw no advantage. His own Rivan version of Dalish Calendar was fit for their duty of serving the Orb, and having a Calendar to remind them of it, would be nice. For practical reasons - if one wanted to count years and set meetings and that sort, Alorn calendar was the best, simply counting years from a single event that had influenced entire World. Tolnedrans, who begun their counting again with every new ruler, just didn't have a proper Calendar, and no amount of insisting could change that.  
  
Lack of that Tolnedran was not the only reason Geran liked to be in the Vale of Aldur. It was the comforting peace within the Vale, the fact that Geran had never had a nightmare about his horrible abductor, Zandramas, in there. It was as a place to rest, if any place was. A place where he was allowed to go out and be himself. Only thing missing were his Rivan friends. Geran had tried to ask his father if he could take them with him, but he'd always been refused.  
  
It was a rather awkward situation, really. It had to do with the parents. The matter was that a Rivan would find it hard, if not impossible, to refuse the king's request. It should have made it easy in Geran's opinion, but for some reason that easy was exactly why his father would not do it. Not unless there was a good reason, and so far, Geran hadn't found anything his father would have considered as a good reason. Geran had trouble understanding his father's reasoning, and his Tolnedran tutor wasn't at all helpful. His thoughts about missing them were interrupted when a shadow came over him.  
  
He looked up to see who had blocked the sun. He blinked. He did not recognise this man, though there was some similarity to his Grandfather, Belgarath. Slowly and reluctantly, Geran stood up. "Hello" he said. "I don't believe we have met. I'm Geran".

"We haven't" replied the man. "I have been away for quite some time. Could you tell me what year it is, Geran?"

"I think it's fifth year of the Sixth Age" Geran said.

"And would you also tell me what Event signified the change from Fifth age to Sixth?" the man inquired.

"The Choice between Dark and Light" Geran told him, "or when the Stones of Power met each other. Take your pick".

"Thank you, young Geran" the fellow said happily, putting away some odd bottle he had taken a drink from.

"Er.. if you don't mind, you look a bit like my Grandfather, Belgarath the Sorcerer. Might I know just who you are?" Geran asked.  
  
"My my" the man mused, "has old Belgarath actually managed to get descendants?"

"Yes." Geran said. "He and Poledra had two daughters. Beldaran married Riva Iron-grip who brought the Orb back from Torak, and I descend from that line. We just omit the greats for the sake of convenience. His other daughter, Polgara, lives with Durnik and has twins".

"I see." the man said. "He's told you stories, I guess. Now, why don't you join me".

The fellow went to Belgarath's tower. "Belgarath! Come down to see me!" he yelled. Geran watched as Belgarath and Poledra came down.

Belgarath stared at the man. "Belsambar! I can't believe. I thought you had left the World!"

"I did, Belgarath" Belsambar grinned, "I did leave this World, but I did not die".

Belgarath blinked. "Why didn't you say anything?" he demanded. "Because, my dear Belgarath, there was a risk of my death. Still, I needed to go. This world was sort of boring me. Nothing left for me to study, really. So I decided to go and study another World".  
"Another World??!!" Belgarath repeated in disbelief.

"The journey was exhausting and it took me a long time to dare travel back, brother" Belsambar went on, "I have a wife and all, you know. Now I have this little potion I can use to get my strength back in no time, so I can pay a visit".

"Um. Belsambar?" Geran asked. "I was wondering if you could teach me a little bit? Tell me of this another World of yours?"

"Yes." Belsambar said. "I see my tower was ruined! My beautiful tower!"

"Build a new one" Belgarath suggested, "but do tell me more of that other world".

"Well, they did make at least one great invention" Belsambar said.

"What was?"

"A word" Belsambar smirked.

"A word?" Belgarath prompted.

"Yes. The word Muggle" Belsambar explained. "Means people who have only… um… technology to use, and no Will and Word, or wizardry or any sort of magic whatsoever. Many of the Muggles in that world are pretty much like Tolnedrans, though some dream of being able to do magic - as if it would ever solve any problems."  
  
Geran listened keenly to Belsambar musing about another world. And as he met others, talked about past events and all that. Then, however, he begun to discuss with Geran's father of a possibility to organise a more or less regular transport, of bringing more people in and all that. "Your responsibilities don't end with this world, Belgarion" Belsambar said. "I think you'll be needing this method of transport. King's Cross is already a big station, and it will be more or less easy to organize transport from there, to any other worlds".  
  
So the train-station had been built. The only train-station there was in Geran's home- World, to say the least. It was located right below the Citadel, and Belgarion had been very careful upon where it'd be put. He didn't want any nastiness from another world enter his home just like that, but he had to agree he'd like to meet those people. So it was in a special place. The train would travel at times of Belgarion's control. And, to Geran's delight, he had got himself another teacher, a teacher, who was a Rivan. Geran's lessons turned pretty interesting after that. He had two teachers with every lesson, teachers who didn't agree much on anything, considering how very different Tolnedrans and Rivans were.


	2. Chapter One The Train

**Chapter One - The Train**  
  
Geran walked down to the basement of the Citadel with his father and Belsambar. There had been a test ride, and they had returned soon enough. Today, on Geran's eleventh birthday, he was allowed to do a journey. Wolf joined in, waving his tail happily.

"It'll be great fun, dear friends", Belsambar said right after the train took off from Riva. "We'll meet Albus Dumbledore at King's Cross soon enough, and hopefully my wife, too".

"Why do these people have two names, Belsambar?" Geran asked.

"A custom" Belsambar replied. "In truth, most of them have even more names. It's his first name, Albus, that's really his, personally. His last name, or his surname, is a family name. Albus has a brother, whose first name is Aberforth. They both share the same surname, Dumbledore".

"Complicated" Geran said, shaking his head. "Can't they just make do with first names?"

Belsambar smiled. "They did. But then they were so many with the same name that they just had to add one. At first it was mostly to do with a profession or a description, and when sons usually learned their father's profession and looks, that name became hereditary".

"Dumbledore doesn't sound like a profession" Geran said doubtfully.

"It's an old word for bumblebee, so it's a descriptive one" Belsambar replied.

"Albus Dumbledore is a bee?" Geran marvelled.

"No, but his ancestor could turn himself into a bumblebee" Belsambar laughed. "It's what wizards call _animagi_. They can change into an animal, and only one animal".  
  
"But what would our last name be in this world?" Geran wondered. "I mean, we should have one, just to fit in".

Belsambar nodded. "I suggest you go with profession. One that is hereditary..."

"Profession? What... king?" Geran blurted. "or perhaps regal or royal?"

Belgarion frowned a bit.

"...and preferably shared by the both of you" Belsambar added, ignoring the interruption.

"Keeper" Belgarion put in firmly. "That's a duty we're born with and what we're doing here as well. Royalty is what we left behind when the train left — I hope".

"I don't see how I came to forget that" Geran said regretfully. "Then again, that Tolnedran tutor Mother hired kept telling to me about being royalty and about that ridiculous way of recording history."

"You won't be having a Tolnedran tutor anymore, Geran" Belgarion told him. "It is, I presume, easy enough to forget the first duty. Yet, it should be as hard to forget as your right hand. You do know what the mark means, don't you?"

"Yes, Father" Geran replied.  
  
Then Belsambar decided to change the subject. "Tell me, Geran, has anything odd happened when you've been angry or scared?"

"Well, something always broke when I had that nightmare" Geran said doubtfully, "and my tutor's ink-bottle used to break when he was saying something insulting about Alorns or Rivans."

"But I heard nothing" Belgarion said. "I would have, if it was Will and Word".

"It could have been wizardry, though" Belsambar said. "Many wizard children do uncontrolled magic when in stress".

"You mean. I am a wizard?" Geran asked.

"And I think you might do with learning how to control it" Belsambar nodded. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry might well be the place for you. Albus Dumbledore is the current headmaster and I can almost guarantee you get in - they're all eleven when they start their first year". Belsambar chuckled. "Just thinking. Aldur sent me off to Kell in order to learn Wizardry once, but my study with other worlds brought me more information on that particular subject than Kell could ever provide."

"Um… what's witchcraft?" Geran asked.

"Same thing as wizardry, except that women do it, not men" Belsambar replied.

"Oh" Geran said.

"Anyway, I had to take on several disguises to hide my extra-ordinary long life" Belsambar added, "Muggles, who at some point begun to execute anyone they believed was doing magic by fire - not that it worked, mind you, real witches and wizards did a simple Flame-Freezing Charm and pretended they died. That provided excellent means for me to fake my death. Took me twenty times to learn how to keep it from wizards - Wyndelin the Weird, my dear friend, needed forty-seven times. Anyway, we finally succeeded, and managed to convince wizards. I was known as Dedalus Dumbledore for nearly two centuries since Hogwarts was first founded and as William Weasley for the next two. Then I assumed the name of…"  
  
Belsambar was interrupted by a loud creak as the train slowed down. They had arrived at King's Cross.  
  
Just outside the train Belsambar busily did the introductions; His wife, Perenelle, and both Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore had turned up at the platform. Geran wondered how Belsambar could tell the two apart, but guessed that the gold-and-scarlet bird sitting on Albus' shoulder had something to do with that, as well as the grey goat Aberforth had on leash.

Aberforth complimented Geran and Belgarion on their Rivan cloaks made of goat-hair. "It sure was a fine goat to give that hair", he noted. "I guess you people eat goats?"

"Too much" Geran said, his face turning sickly. "I prefer ham".

"Right you are", Aberforth chuckled, "but those wizards that come up and slay them for some stone and don't even bother to eat them afterwards."

"Now, now, Aberforth, you know it's for antidotes against..." Albus soothed.

"An antidote on a cost of a goat's life!" Aberforth snapped. "Just because goats don't bother to read, doesn't make them unworthy to keep their stomachs intact! What ever happened to making draught out of Mandrake leaves?"  
  
Belsambar looked at the brothers with amusement. Their argument reminded him of Belgarath and Beldin, as well as his very own debates with his brothers in Aldur's Vale. Geran realised the similarity between the Dumbledore brothers and how Belgarath always argued with Polgara. Geran turned his attention to the odd sign above the platform. It had only one symbol in it, two straight lines connected with a curly one on the top. However much Geran stared at it, he could not say what it was supposed to mean.

Belsambar explained that it was a symbol used for how many times, exactly, the diameter of a circle fits around the circle. "It's one of the most famous irrational figures there is" Belsambar said. "We leave the natural numbers - one, two, three and so on, to Muggles. Fractions - like the Platform nine and three quarters for Hogwarts - are for wizard- platforms within this world, being also the so-called rational numbers. The Irrationals are for travelling between worlds - not that there's any but this one yet".  
  
And then they stepped trough the gate onto the Muggle platform 3 at King's Cross. Belsambar on the front, they went into the Leaky Cauldron trough a door many would not notice without knowing it was there. Belgarion wondered if the doors for the Cave of Gods worked that way, you could find it if you knew it was there, or if you had need to find it. Not that it meant much as they entered the pub, which had not many customers at all.


	3. Capter Two The Wand

**Chapter Two - The Wand**  
  
Behind the desk was quite bald old man, whose eyes widened at their arrival. "What a surprise, Albus, I thought you'd be at Hogwarts - what with the Triwizard Cup and all" he said, "and I haven't seen you away from your goats for quite some time, Aberforth. And is it you, Mr Flamel? I'm honoured to meet you… and your company..."

"Belgarion and Geran Keeper" Belsambar said, "Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron".

"Yeah, right, pleased to meet you" Tom said to Belgarion and Geran.

"Those potion makers, Tom" Aberforth muttered, "Killing up whole lot of them, getting bezoars from their stomachs. I only managed to save Nellie". He patted his grey goat affectionately. "They could have asked, you know. No need to kill 'em at all, I could have taken one out without killing a single goat, Tom, I could have. But what do they care of the goats who don't read. Of course, when I was out to figure how to take out those valuable bezoars without killing the poor goat, they decided to prosecute me for practicing improper charms, they did. Improper indeed. They just want to kill goats, and take out all joy from those who care for them."  
  
Aberforth continued his bitter talk, but no one listened, except maybe Nellie the goat whose head he was stroking. They all had a cup of hot chocolate. Then Albus bid leave. "I used a Time-turner so that I could be a good host for my guests of other schools and be with you" he said, "but I really should be going now".

Aberforth looked at his brother with a bit of disdain. "Yule should be a family party, Albus," he muttered. "You seem to think it's about meeting your bookish friends rather than your own brother".

"I'm sorry, Aberforth" Albus told him. "I'll come back today".

"Oh, come now, Abe" Tom soothed. "I'm your brother, too".

"Thanks, Tom" Aberforth muttered. "But it's a bit hard when my own twin goes out to a Yule Party without me".

"Why don't you just join him instead?" Geran inquired.

"I don't like those bookish people staring at me" Aberforth said. "Besides, they don't have thoughts of their own, they just babble about something they read somewhere. At least Albus has more sense than them lot, believing everything they read, even by that Rita Skeeter, who's written nasty lies about nearly everyone."  
  
Belsambar took Geran and Belgarion for a little tour around the Diagon Alley, showing them what witchcraft truly was, and buying a few magical mirrors, chocolate frogs and other accessories. He also took them to meet Ollivander, the wand-maker. Belgarion told him he had just recalled something and that there was something he absolutely had to do before continuing on this matter.

Belsambar nodded. "Take one of the Mirrors, Belgarion. That way you can contact me" he advised and explained how the mirror worked. "We'll meet again on the platform Pi, then."  
  
"Perhaps I should join you" Ollivander said. "The ingredients for the wand should come from your World".  
  
Upon returning to Citadel, Belgarion went to see his wife shortly. Then Belgarion and Geran went to one of the royal libraries. This one didn't have prophecies Geran had spent some of his time studying ever since Belsambar had returned, but rather records and documents of Rivan Laws, all treaties signed by the kings and so on. If ever there'd been a change, the old documents were destroyed (they burned well) and truth to tell, there weren't that many documents Rivan king to have signed. Newest was a peace- document for all nations, except Gar Og Nadrak, since king Drosta had not been there, nor anyone to speak for him. The library was located near Geran's schoolroom where Geran had had two tutors since Belsambar had returned. Whether or not the old sorcerer had some influence, Geran could not tell. Geran did know, however, that most Rivans disapproved of Tolnedran ways.  
  
Two tutors could even be seen as a symbol of the joint throne. Belgarion hired the Rivan even as Ce'Nedra hired Master Jeebers. Geran had found his lessons much more interesting after the old Rivan had begun teaching.  Geran would always remember the first lesson with Holban. He'd been in the room with Master Jeebers when Holban had come in. At first the two had argued about whether Holban was to teach. Then they'd argued on what to teach. They had finally agreed on history.

Holban had then told Geran interestingly of Rivan history. It had been like listening to a story, and Geran couldn't have been more involved. Holban had shown Geran passageways within the Citadel that Geran had never before known of after that hour. Holban had also begun teaching about Rivan laws by having Geran read the actual Laws, rather than some second-hand study of them. Holban had chosen this library for that study, as it had the documents concerning the subject. The document signed when Cherek had divided his kingdom, also known as the Base of the Alorn Union to begin with, continuing with all the laws and treaties including Riva.  
Geran wasn't surprised to see Holban in the library. Still, that Holban was arguing with Kail of all people was surprising. Naturally they stopped arguing the very moment Belgarion stepped in. They bowed and asked how they could be of service as if no argument had ever existed. "I came to find whether that ridiculous law against witchcraft is still in force" Belgarion told Holban, "I suppose you can tell me?" "It is in force, Holy Keeper" Holban said, taking a parchment from a shelf to the farthest left and handing it to Belgarion. "Right here, if you'd like a look".  
  
Belgarion began to read the parchment_: Unless the Command of the Keeper of the Orb of Aldur says otherwise, or for the sake of service and protection of the Orb of Aldur is otherwise necessary to ignore this law, it is forbidden to practice witchcraft or any sort of magic within the realms of Isle of the Winds, the Western Sea or anywhere else the authority of the Rivan throne reaches under penalty of death by burning or exile. Nor is anyone to request the removal of this law, lest he or she shall fell under the same penalty for supporting witchcraft. Signed. Riva Irongrip.  
_  
"Well, well." Belgarion grinned, "I believe I shall simply alter this a little bit. Instead of witchcraft, this ban is to be against summoning demons. Riva probably didn't know the difference or the language has changed more than I could have known since his day".  
  
That law was changed by the Command of the Keeper of the Orb of Aldur during that same day. Then Belgarion introduced Aberforth and Ollivander. He also told Holban about his plans to having Geran go out Hogwarts. "I think it is obvious that Geran has the talent" Belsambar said, "and Hogwarts is better at teaching wizardry than Kell ever".

Holban nodded. "I suppose it's time to tell you something," said he. "I am a wizard as well".

"And do you have a wand as well?" Ollivander asked.

Belsambar began to laugh. "No one here does, Ollivander, unless they've learned how to make one since I left".

"I see" Ollivander said. "Maybe it's two wands."

"Of course" Belgarion said. "You'll need equipment from the Tree, and that's still quite a while away".  
  
Geran listened secretly in one of the secret passages like the best of Drasnian spies, when his Father was discussing with Holban.  
  
"If he has the talent, Belgarion, he must learn to control it for the sake of his own safety." Holban said. "I'm not sure if I could teach him that. I've forgotten most of my own skills, and Geran's orientations might not be healing."

"I see. So what are you suggesting?"

"If you permit me, I go with him." Holban said, "Tell Geran and the other children about Riva so they don't bomber Geran with questions about it. Keep your son safer, particularly if I'll have a contact mirror."  
  
Geran left quietly and went to bed. So Holban would be coming with him! Geran wondered what it'd be like, having lessons from loads of teachers, but none from Jeebers, none from a person who didn't believe in magic.  
  
Soon enough, on the Eighth Day of Spring - so that Mother's birthday was well over, Geran figured - they took their time to travel to Sendaria by ship. The Captain didn't like much for Chretienne on board, and Nellie even less. Being Captain who owned the ship, royal titles meant nothing for him. Captain on sea had more authority than most kings could manage on their own kingdoms. Still, Captain Soren was a Rivan. Geran wasn't sure was it the Orb or it's Keeper that convinced him to permit the horse and the goat on board. So they arrived in Val Alorn after few days' journey. They met king Cherek right in the harbour. They did receive compliments of the palace, Geran met Unrak, his dear friend. Then king Anheg, old as he was, died while they were there.  
  
They stayed for King Anheg I to be buried. Soon after that Belgarion crowned Anheg II. Whole visit in Cherek took a better part of a month, how ever. After a few days stop at Boktor with King Kheva and his mother, Queen Porenn, they went to Algaria. Hettar laughed when he saw Aberforth riding on his goat. "It's not a laughing matter, young man," Aberforth told him. "A goat is the greatest animal there is." 

Hettar couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you get milk from a horse?" Aberforth asked.

"Naturally" Hettar, now king of Algars, told him. "Every Algar's first drink is mare's milk".  
  
Then Adara, Belgarion's cousin and Hettar's wife, introduced her 'rose', the lopsided flower whose fragrance could neutralise any poison and negative emotions. "And I believe it also helps to heal broken bones" Adara said. "My dear cousin did a good job on creating it for me".  
  
With that, Holban, Belsambar and Aberforth all collected that flower.

"You're the Godslayer, but this speaks way more of your strength, Belgarion" Holban said, smiling.

After a while they arrived to the Vale. Ollivander wanted to see that Tree, and Belsambar went to where his tower had been to begin rebuilding, Belgarion, Geran and Holban went to the Tree with Ollivander and Ce'Nedra and Beldaran went to Polgara's cottage. Almost as soon as Geran and Holban came near enough, the Tree dropped a branch to each of them.  
  
"All right", Ollivander said, "I suppose the Tree's decided on what sort of branch is fit for your wand. Now I only need to figure out what to use as a core."

Almost as if to answer, a horse came galloping to them.

"Eriond! And his horse!" Belgarion laughed. Then he explained the history of the horse, it's magical power to go fast, and that of Eriond. Geran's wand core - and that of Holban's - was a Horse Tail. Not any horse, but one who'd been dead and lived again - a sorcerer horse, so to speak.  
  
Then Eriond, Belgarion and the Orb joined to bless Geran. Geran felt their love - felt being loved like nothing else was there than that love.

-------------  
  
**Sol**: Won't tell you about the stone until Geran's at Hogwarts. Belsambar/Flamel will be teaching something.


	4. Chapter Three Diagon Alley

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**Chapter Three - Diagon Alley**

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It was time for Geran and Holban to take the train to London, King's Cross, Platform Pi. Aberforth had joined them. He was even leaving Nellie behind, now that he had people to whose care he could leave her. "I made a bet with my brother", Aberforth told Holban. "I'll show him how one can teach with no reading or writing used at all. I do know it's a win-win situation for Albus as he either gets a decent teacher or wins a bet".  
  
"I made arrangements to teach as well, Aberforth. I think I'll just have them write down the material by my dictation" Holban chuckled. "I do give you one credit, though. I shall see to it that they'll learn to think".  
  
"Well, at least you're not using some books like those that good-for- nothing Lockhart wrote" Aberforth said, "but what exactly is the material you want them to write?"  
  
"Rivan Laws" Holban replied. "The text of them. I have authentic copies from the originals. It is what I'm teaching, after all".  
  
Aberforth nodded. "Good. At least you have sense, and expect them to have, too".  
  
Geran didn't listen much to them, but concentrated instead on musing about his new studies. He couldn't bring his muggle friends, but he did have wolf to keep him company, and with any luck, he'd make new friends at Hogwarts.  
  
Belsambar and Perenelle met them at the Platform, in the company of another couple of unknown people. "I presume you haven't as yet met Belmakor, or his wife, Wyndelin?" Belsambar introduced them.  
  
"Wyndelin the Weird?" Geran said.  
  
"No need to be insultive, young Geran" Belmakor put in, "even if she is referred so by some misunderstanding wizard who wrote the History of Magic - a book which I don't consider to be of much worth. Melcenes write much better history books about muggle history than he managed on magical history".  
  
"I didn't mean anything insultive about it" Geran apologised.  
  
"It's all right, dear" Wyndelin said. "Weird is a word for things and people we don't understand - and for someone coming from all another World it is hard to understand us, I suppose".  
  
They quit their chatting. "Um... Belsambar mentioned about you to have managed to convince wizards on your death, so... what's your name now?"  
  
"Wyndelin McGonagall" she said. "Thanks to our dear friends, death-pretence is no longer necessary, and I have been rather fond of my first name. However, we will need to move into your world sooner or later. I suppose I could leave that 'Weird' behind as I come, huh?"  
  
"Of course, dear Lady" Geran replied. "I'm sorry to say that Belmakor's tower is in ruins, however — not that you'd have any trouble fixing it".  
  
"I think I'll redesign it anyway" Belmakor said, "to fit better for married life, and now that I know charms that'll give me bigger space inside than out."  
  
Belmakor went on to describe all sorts of constructive laws he could now ignore, and what sort of masterpiece his new tower would be. Geran didn't understand any of it, so he suggested they go shopping.  
  
With laughter, the adults agreed. Holban who'd been silent near to all those sorcerers, organised their shopping-tour effectively. First they'd visit Gringotts for exchanging currency. Holban had the gold-coins Belgarion had given, enough to support both Holban and Geran. After that, Geran would go to Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions, as he'd need to be measured there, with Belsambar and Belmakor. Holban would do rest of the shopping with Perenelle and Wyndelin, as Wyndelin had the school list of required items.  
  
At Madam Malkin's, Geran was asked to stand on a stool so that Madam Malkin could measure him. Geran noticed another boy standing on the stool next to him. A blond boy, his face scarred. "I don't think I've seen you before" he said. "You must be first year".  
  
"Yes, I am" Geran replied uncertainly. For some reason, although this boy was a wizard, something in his manner reminded him of Tolnedrans, and that was not a good sign in Geran's book. He chose to be silent and observe, but that proved near impossible.

"So what's your favourite Quidditch Team?" the boy asked. Geran guessed that Quidditch was some sort of game.  
  
"I don't consider it proper to pick a favourite before the game is over" Geran replied, making a mental note to learn what was Quidditch.  
  
The boy was taken aback by that declaration. He said his family had been all wizards for a long time. "What about you? Not Muggles, are they?"  
  
Geran laughed. "No. Not muggles" he said. Then he added, "but the terms wizard and witch don't apply either".  
  
Madam Malkin had finished, and Holban had just arrived with a bag full of books. Geran left the boy wondering about Geran's truthful, yet unrevealing reply when it came to his parents. "So, did you get everything, Holban?" he asked, as Holban paid for the robes.  
  
"I did, Geran" Holban told him. "All your list requires, and some more".  
  
"Good. So, er... do you people know what's Quidditch?" Geran asked.

"A silly game where people fly on broomsticks" Aberfoth snorted. "They almost caused a little species of bird, the Golden Snidget to extinct before they came up with a charmed ball. I say, they should have thought of the ball much earlier".

They stopped for ice cream, a desert Geran had never tasted before. He decided he liked that, as well as all the other sweets they ate. Holban, however insisted that he had proper meals. To Geran's luck, no one insisted for him to eat spinach.  
  
Not that Geran had it all fun as the train, Hogwarts Express, didn't leave for a week yet. Holban had decided that they go trough his books in the rooms they'd booked from Tom at the Leaky Cauldron.


	5. Hogwarts Express

Something to ease following: /this is in Drasnian finger language/

"Normal speech is expressed like this".

************************************************

Chapter Four

************************************************

Geran got onto the train early. Of the adults, only Holban took the train. The rest of them said they'd Apparate to Hogsmeade in order to get there early. Geran didn't know what Apparating was, but presumed it was something like when Aunt Pol translocated herself, except that you didn't need to see the spot, just know where it was. Holban levitated Geran's trunk before them, as Geran tried to seek a proper department for himself and wolf. Finally, he found one occupied by three humans, two owls, a cat and a dog. Geran asked if he could join them.

"Oh, of course" said a brown-haired girl, putting the orange cat onto the floor. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. These are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter". "Geran Keeper" Geran replied. Before he could introduce Holban, the aged Rivan gave him a waiting gesture.

/Please don't spoil the surprise by revealing my name, Geran/ he went, saying "Sorry kids, but you may know my name at Hogwarts, not before" at the same time, as well as floating Geran's trunk onto a shelf above them. "Now, I presume you need to get to know each other without some adult watching over you". With that, he left and headed towards the front of the train.

  
"Keeper?" the redheaded boy repeated. "Our Quidditch house team lacks one… were you about to try out – if you'll be Gryffindor, that is?"  
Geran shrugged. "All I've heard of Quidditch is that they fly on broomsticks and nearly caused Golden Snidget to extinct before they had the sense to charm a ball…"  
"That's more than _I_ knew before Ron told me about it on this train" Harry told him. "So don't worry about it".  
Geran grinned a bit uncertainly. "You're all in Gryffindor, I take it?" Geran asked.  
"Yes" Ron said. "You have any idea which house you'll be in?"  
"Only that it won't be Slytherin, at least" Geran replied, "I don't think I have any ambition in me. That alone should exclude Slytherin".  
"I guess so", Ron said, "It's the hat that'll decide, anyway".  
"Do you know the wizard who just charmed your trunk up, Geran?" Harry asked.  
"Yes" Geran said evasively. He could understand their curiosity, but he also realized that Holban trusted him not to tell or left it up to him to decide. Geran wished he knew how much he could tell these people. Being Gryffindors said something about their personality; they were bound to be brave. Still, Geran knew that bravery alone didn't say much. He knew that _everyone_ in the ghastly grotto had to brave the ultimate horror. While it included his parents and many of the friends of his family, it also included Zandramas. Geran had stopped calling her a bitch upon learning that her name was the worst sort of Ulgo curse no Ulgo would repeat. Geran had often wondered how there could be a word in Ulgo language that was never used.

  
"Is he the one who told you the little you knew about Quidditch?" Ron asked.  
"No" Geran replied, and frowned to recall what was the name of the goatman… "Dumbledore did. Called it a silly game, if I recall, and how they should have invented the ball long before Golden Snidget was near extinct".  
"I don't believe Professor Dumbledore would think that", Ron said, rolling his eyes, "or we wouldn't have inter-House tournament in Quidditch".  
"What was this Dumbledore like?" Harry asked curiously, seeming to grasp something the other two didn't.  
"Well, two things were most obvious about him was the way he dislikes _bookish_ people…" Geran began, but was interrupted by Hermione.

"Surely professor Dumbledore doesn't do that!" she snapped.

"He does, and then there is his affection to his grey goat, Nellie – and other goats as well" Geran said. "He was quite bitter about some Potion Makers killing his goats in order to get some stones from their stomachs".

Harry suddenly burst into laughter so hard he fell from his bench. Hermione looked at him with some disdain. "What's so funny, Harry?" she asked.  
"You two aren't talking about the same person" Harry replied. "Geran's talking about the headmaster's brother, Aberforth, I believe his name was".  
"Twin brother, to be exact" Geran nodded. "They're identical, as I saw both together." Geran told them about the argument between Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore as the latter had been leaving for Hogwarts.

  
"Yule?" Hermione said. "But Albus Dumbledore was at the Yule party at Hogwarts last year! Dancing with Madame Maxime to say the least. He couldn't have…"

"He said something about taking a Time-Turner" Geran said, "Does that explain it?"

"Oh, of course" Hermione replied. The others nodded. They knew what a Time-Turner was, remembering how Hermione had used one to attend three classes at the same time during their third year, until it had become too hard for her.  
"Is Aberforth a professor somewhere?" Hermione asked.  
"Hogwarts" Geran grinned.  
Hermione frowned. "He sure wasn't last year – unless he was occasionally replacing his brother…"

Geran laughed. "He's just starting, I guess. I hear he made a bet with his brother".

"A bet?" Hermione, Harry and Ron repeated.  
"Yep. If Aberforth manages to teach properly, with no reading or writing used at all, he wins the bet" Geran said.

Hermione went all pale and whining. Geran stared at her. "What's with you?" he asked.  
Harry and Ron grinned. "She'll get over it" Ron said. "It's just that Hermione tends to spend most of her life learning things from books".  
"You'll be all right" Geran assured her, "as long as you don't 'babble about something you read somewhere', as Aberforth put it. He appreciates original thinking much more".

"I wonder how Aberforth and the rest got into Hogwarts" Geran wondered. "They just disappeared when I was getting into the train".

"Apparated, probably" Ron shrugged.

"You can't Apparate into Hogwarts!" Hermione snapped. "It says so in…"

"… Hogwarts, A history" the two ended.

"And just what keeps them from Apparating _near_ Hogwarts and walking for the rest of the journey?" Geran put in. "They haven't put anti-apparating charms into Hogsmeade or the Forest as yet, have they?"

"Good point, Geran" Ron said.

Hermione, however, had noticed something else. "You've read _Hogwarts, A history_, haven't you?"

"Wasn't my idea" Geran said. "I suppose the information will be useful, but the book has the third place in my list of the most boring books ever".  
  


Ron was about to ask what the two most boring books were, when the blond boy Geran had met at Madam Malkin's, entered with two others Geran hadn't seen before. "Well well… what have we here" he said. "Isn't it the first year… now tell me, just how is it that your parents are neither muggles nor wizards?"  
Geran didn't know what to answer, but fortunately, he didn't have to. It seemed to Geran that the other three had animosity towards the blond boy.

"Go away Malfoy" Harry told him.  
"Not until I have my answer".  
"Go away Malfoy" Geran imitated Harry.  
With amusement the others repeated the phrase until Holban returned and patted Malfoy on shoulder.  
"Uh… who are you?" Malfoy asked, turning.  
"New teacher at Hogwarts" Holban replied. "I believe these four asked you to leave. Why don't you stop bothering them?"  
With that, Malfoy left.

  
"What was Malfoy talking about?" Ron asked.  
Geran told them about his encounter with Malfoy before. Ron, Harry and Hermione chuckled.

Even Holban smiled. "Excellent, Geran" he said. "You managed to answer without giving any information without a single lie. Sad to say, they don't serve proper food in the train. We're to nourish in candy only. We'll get good dinner at Hogwarts, however".

When the Trolley came, they all bought a little bit, Harry more than others. Geran began with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Ron cautioned him that they were really _every_ flavour.

"Albus Dumbledore told me he'd got one tasting like vomit once", Harry added.  
Geran picked one and made a face. "Yuck" he said. "Spinach".

"I don't think it'll poison you, Geran" Holban commented. "Interesting candy, though…"

At his suggestion, they all began to learn each other's tastes with Bertie Bott's Beans. Holban liked vegetables and meat, but disliked sweets. Geran, disliking spinach and goat-meat, was in favour of ham Ron did _not_ like, to Geran's surprise. Their tastes were quite varying, but none liked things like earwax.  
Soon enough, they ended up in Hogsmeade station.  
"Firs' years, over here" Geran heard someone shout.

"Go on" Harry urged, "Hagrid's a fine one".

Geran got into a boat with four people who looked like Ron, what with a red head. "You people know Ron Weasley?" he asked them.  
"Sure" two of them said in unison. "He's our cousin".  
"He critizises a lot about things he cares most" the two others commented, also in unison. "An annoying habit, if you ask us".


	6. Sorting

****************************************************

**Sorting**

****************************************************  
The Hogwarts Castle hadn't given Geran as much of a sense of Wonder and amazement as it had the others in his boat. After all, he lived in Citadel, which was also huge. Geran couldn't tell which one was bigger. However, the castle had seemed welcoming to him – unlike the Rivan look that was made as unwelcoming as possible on purpose. Geran looked around while he could. He noticed a girl with golden hair swimming near his boat. Then, to his amazement, he noticed the girl had a tail like she was half a fish! She let out a howl – which, however, sounded like a giggle – and dived into the lake, disappearing beneath the surface.

Geran and the others followed Hagrid into what Hagrid called Entrance Hall. There was a woman whose hair was in tight bun – Geran wondered if it hurt her to keep it so, giving the look on her face. "First years, Professor McGonagall" Hagrid said. Geran wondered if she was related to Wyndelin and Belmakor. She told them of four houses, that they'd be sorted into them, about earning and losing points and the great honour: the House Cup. Then she led them into the hall, and the other students began to worry about how they'd be sorted. "Should we do a spell? I mean only I can't do any…" "I heard it's something painful…" Geran wondered why she hadn't told them about the hat. Although Geran knew about the 'hat' deciding from Ron, there still was a surprise left for him. The hat began to sing!

_Some thousand years ago_

_ the famous magical team  
shared this noble dream_

_to have a place to teach  
the young for magic to reach  
Thus did Hogwarts come to be._

_Great friends were they all;  
Yet were they most different.  
Each had a house to call,  
students of ones own scent._

_Gryffindor selected the bravest for  
daring, nerve and chivalry.  
 Hufflepuff chose those  
whom were hard working,  
loyal, just, kind and nice.  
Ravenclaw's favourites love their  
wits, intelligence and learning,  
Slytherin those with great  
ambitions, who'll use any means_

_to gain their goal.  
  
_

_I am the Sorting Hat,  
Given by the late Founders,  
to see your mind and heart  
so you'll end up where you belong._

_  
_Geran blinked. The hat had sung! The Bun-Lady had taken a stand again.

"I'll call your names, when I do, please try the hat on and place it on the stool once it has decided where you'll go" she said. "Ashwood, Emily!"

A girl with brown hair went to the stool and sat down. Almost immediately the hat cried, "SLYTHERIN". She went happily to the cheering of a Slytherin Table.

McGonagall, Geran believed Hagrid had called her, went on with the list. Geran waited. For some reason, she read family names first. She seemed to have some kind of order, too – as Bott and Brooks showed. Finally, after Eeylop, Fletcher, Fortescue , Georgia and Honeyduke, she said: "Keeper, Geran".  
  


Geran walked to the hat and put it on. "Hello - do you mind if I call you Sorty?"

_Hello, Geran_. The hat replied. _You're the first with the courtesy to greet me. Do call me Sorty – I'd like that. I do hope you come see me later – it gets rather boring sitting on the shelf all day and night. Albus Dumbledore is too busy to talk to me often. Mainly this Sorting is all entertainment I get._

_I'm sorry to hear that, Sorty._

_It's not so bad – I got to visit from Harry Potter once. He was worried about his house for some reason. But you now…_

_So what are you going to do with me now – I mean, everyone's waiting…?_

_Well…let's see … many here don't desire to be obscure like you do. Great loyalty to your family and the stone of great power… but you fear having power of your own, yet you have a great deal…my, my you nearly became a god and hated every moment of it..._

_Will you get on with it, Sorty?_ Geran interrupted angrily.

_Impatient, aren't you? Oh well… you'll be best in _GRYFFINDOR"

The hat had shouted the last word for all to hear and Geran put it back onto the chair, walked to the Gryffindor Table and sat next to Harry. Geran's mind was going now on what the hat had said. Desire to be obscure? Well, he sure could have lots more fun if he weren't the Heir to the Keeper, couldn't he? And he knew how empty and decidedly boring it was to be a leader, and that obscurity was what had kept his family safe for a few centuries… Fear of having power and yet having a great deal? Maybe he would be a sorcerer like Dad, once he was old enough… Geran was too occupied to notice the four redheads sitting at the table, or to hear what the Headmaster was saying. The first thing he did notice was that there was food in front of him and he was hungry.

He heard, however, as someone called for attention. Geran glanced at the High Table and saw Dumbledore standing – he couldn't say for sure which one he was until he spoke. "Now, I would like to introduce a few new members to our staff. Firstly, Defence Against Dark Arts teacher – Aberforth Dumbledore, my twin brother". Geran more than joined the rest in applauding. He _liked_ Aberforth. Next, Dumbledore nodded. "Also, Professor Binns is now resting in peace. Some kind soul has assisted him in finding it. Your new history teacher is Godric McGonagall". Geran looked curiously how the Gryffindor Head of House would take this. She did seem to know him.

"Also, I'm happy to announce that we shall be giving new classes this year. You shall see a list in your House Common Room. Please sign in to join the classes," Dumbledore said. "Alright then… Bed time!"

**Rivan Codex**: Sorry, but I just can't imagine _Geran_ in Slytherin… I do have some plans for Emily Ashwood, though.  
**Sailor Sol**: Well, Gryffindors had one certain canine of whom they don't want to discuss for some good reasons; Malfoy's too confused when he can't place Geran, Crabbe and Goyle just don't talk much…__


	7. Timetable problem

***********************************************************************

  
  
**Chapter Six  
**  
  
***********************************************************************

Geran looked up the list for the "new" classes nearly immediately after checking the bedroom he'd be sharing with other students. There was Philosophy, Sorcery (How to use magic without a wand), Magical Laws of the Ministry of Magic and Rivan Studies. Hermione had already signed up for all of them, and Geran followed suit. Then he told Ron and Harry that if they wanted to know about the wizard who they met in train, they'd better sign up for Rivan studies. Then he decided to give in to his sleepiness and go to bed.

  
Next morning, after magnificent breakfast, Hermione handed Geran a piece of parchment. Geran looked at it. It had numbers, and a list of names, some repeatedly, on it. "What am I supposed to do with this, Hermione?" he asked.

  
"It's your timetable, Geran" Hermione told him simply.

  
"Don't try to pull my leg, Hermione" Geran told her. "It is no _table_. We all know perfectly well that a table is a piece of _furniture. _This thing, however, is quite obviously a piece of _parchment_ with writing on it. Now would you please explain what it is?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean!" Hermione snapped. "And I _don't_ think this silly business about tables being furniture is funny, and you know perfectly well what to do with a time-table".

Geran blinked at her outburst, not knowing what to say. He did not know what she was talking about, but she would hardly believe him if he tried to explain that in that state of mind. Geran decided to concentrate on eating instead. Once he had finished and looked up again, everyone had gone somewhere. After a moment of confusion, Geran went to the Gryffindor common room, took his things and went in search for others. He walked around Hogwarts, climbing up and down stairs, some of which moved as he had walked past them. He passed along lots of corridors; he opened many doors, but had no sight of anyone. After walking a long time, he no longer knew where he was. He was totally and completely lost.

With a sigh, Geran continued his search, though it seemed more and more hopeless to him for each and every door. Then he heard the voice of Aberforth Dumbledore from behind a door.  
"We do know you can read, Miss Granger" Aberforth Dumbledore was saying, "you may stop trying to impress us with that. Now, do any of you have _experience _upon fighting – oh, let's say, for example, a troll?"  
  
Geran knocked on the door and entered.

"Yes, Geran?" Aberforth asked, turning to face the young student, from Harry & Ron who both had their hands up.

"Could you help me, Aberforth?" Geran asked. "I'm trying to find my class and I have absolutely no idea where I am, now".

"Well, I can tell you that this is the Defence Against Dark Arts classroom, Geran" Aberforth told him, "but that doesn't help you much. Where are you supposed to be?"

"I don't know, Aberforth" Geran replied confidently, "and this piece of parchment Hermione Granger gave me is not helping any, as I don't understand it at all. She got a fit and told me I already know when I asked her to explain it to me".

"I see" Aberforth told him. "Failure of the bookish girl, and excellent example of the fallacy of her book-framed thinking. Good for you to seek help. Excellent." Then he turned to Hermione. "For your lack of assistance to a first year as a prefect, Miss Granger, you're to serve a detention after dinner with me today. Perhaps that will teach you to take your duties seriously", he said, "but for now, please guide Mr Keeper to his class properly and try to return in proper time".

"Yes, sir" Hermione replied and led Geran out of the door and towards the class. She checked Geran's timetable and took him upstairs. She knocked on a door and showed Geran in.

"I'm sorry, professor McGonagall" she said, "but Mr Keeper seems to have a problem of understanding the concept of timetable. I thought he was mocking me when he asked me about it at breakfast, and I _still_ think he's just pulling a prank on me".

"I'm _not_" Geran said, "and professor Dumbledore is wise enough to know that. You just don't like it when you've been proven wrong, Hermione Granger. And I _still_ say that tables are pieces of furniture, not parchments!"

"He's referring to Aberforth Dumbledore" Hermione clarified. "He gave me detention for not explaining Geran the timetable".

"Thank you, Miss Granger" McGonagall said. "I'll see to this matter".

Hermione left.

"Would you be familiar with the word _schedule_, Mr Keeper?" Minerva McGonagall asked Geran then.

"Certainly" Geran said, "schedule is what keeps my father from being with his family and several other important things that need doing".

  
"And just what would these 'other important things' be, Mr Keeper?" McGonagall asked curiously.  
  
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that until my father grants me permission" Geran replied stiffly.  
  
"Very well" McGonagall sighed. "Resume a seat and we'll begin the class…"

-------------------------

Thank you for your reviews…

Oh, and we will be seeing Eddings' characters – at least when Geran will be going home for vacations. And, I'm not choosing between wizardry and sorcery, it's simply that Geran's too young to have a Will yet, but that's not to say someone _else_ won't have it…


	8. Meetings

Meetings before the history class 

After the hour of Transfiguration was over, Minerva McGonagall asked Geran to stay after so she could explain the schedule to him. Unfortunately, she had not realised the full extent of how different their worlds of concepts truly were. For one thing, while they _did_ agree upon the concept of a week, Geran had never named the days of week, nor anyhow numbered weeks. 

"I don't get it", Geran said. "Who or what are Thur and Tue to own every seventh day each?" 

"It doesn't matter" she sighed."What _does_ matter is that each day has a name and they follow each other in the same order in a circular mode". 

"All right then" Geran replied."What are these numbers?" 

"Hours of day" McGonagall told him. "One class usually takes three quarters of an hour". 

While Geran could understand how long an hour was supposed to be, he did not understand how those numbers had anything to do with hours. She tried to explain about a watch, but to Geran watch meant entirely different thing. Watch was a duty to keep others safe, and the watch had some authority. "Not on my watch" was the sentence Geran had heard the word mostly in. Hours from midnight made no sense to Geran, whose global thinking meant it was ALWAYS midnight - and any other "time" of day for that matter. 

Minerva had still one thing to try: explain clock as measured time. 

"Measure time?" Geran repeated. "Sorry, ma'am, but that just doesn't make any sense. Time cannot be measured; it is eternal". 

McGonagall sighed. "I give up" she said. 

She nodded and took Geran to the next class, a history class that was now taught by Godric McGonagall, also known as Belmakor. Belmakor greeted them happily. "My dear Minerva" he said. 

"Father" Minerva replied. "Maybe you can explain schedules to him, for I sure can not". 

Belmakor laughed. "I take it that you've learned the lesson of the Tree, Geran?" 

Geran nodded. "All my family has, Belmakor" he said. 

"Including your mother?" Belmakor asked. "She's no sorceress, I've been told". 

"My mother is a Dryad" Geran replied. 

"I see" Belmakor replied. "Well, we'd better get started. Please go sit in the back with your classmates. And why don't you sit here, Minerva, you might finally learn about time... and if you don't, maybe I'll take you meet the tree". 


	9. History Class

Chapter Eight 

"Now, I've organised you so that all of you are facing someone older than yourself. Facing the past, so to speak. This is a history class, after all" Belasambar began. "I know you've previously used A History of Magic, but unlike Binns, I don't see much worth in that book. I must say the author had a very misguided way to look at things. We won't use that book at all. We will begin at the earliest point we can and move on from there. Now let's see… Who can tell me what is the earliest event in known and verified history since the Universe came to exist?" 

Geran raised his hand – it was questionable whether UL had created the Universe, if Universe had given birth to UL, or if the two had become existence together, or if the question was worth it. The earliest event, Geran thought, was the accident. The star that exploded where it wasn't supposed to. 

"Excellent" Belsambar said. "Muggle scientists know this as the Big Bang. Mistakenly, they believe that was when the Universe came to exist, but she is older than that. It began with a single star, and that alone is not such a big problem. However, that star was near – very near – hundreds of other stars. This explosion was so great it nearly drifted all Universe apart…" 

Belsambar went on with the history of the spirits of Dark and Light as well as their game and how they finally had agreed to settle their disagreement in one world. The world where he and Geran had been born, and how it had been decided that one of that world was to choose between them. After that lesson they headed for lunch. 

"A choice? That was all to decide everything?" Hermione said indignantly. 

"It did" Geran told her. "I was there". 

She blinked. "And… who made the choice?" she asked. 

"Cyradis" Geran replied. "Once the Seeress of Kell, now Empress of Mallorea". 

"Seeress? You mean as a Seer?" Hermione checked. "Professor McGonagall says that true Seers are very rare…" 

"Well, naturally they are _rare_, Hermione" Geran told her. "The book of Heavens is not just for anyone to read and know. Few would be able to deal with predestination". 

She still wasn't convinced. 

"It is _proven_" Geran said. "Melcenes wrote down what the Seers told them and it did happen later". 

Harry told him about Professor Trelawney, her prediction and how it came true that same day, how she had forgotten all about it right after. "It did happen and well… although not all her predictions are like that…" 

"That prediction was an act of a true prophet" Geran said. "There were quite a lot of prophets during the third Age of man where I came from. It'd be interesting if she was a Seeress, too. There's one thing about the true Seers you should know. A true Seer is unable to tell a lie. They may be silent or speak in riddles, but true Seer can not lie". 

"You should take Divination for your third year" Ron told him. 

Two Gryffindor girls nodded knowingly. "Trelawney has never said a word of untruth" Lavender Brown said. 

"She keeps telling me I will _die_" Harry said. "I've faced mortal danger over and over, but I'm not dead, am I?" 

"Not _yet_" Lavender told him. "You ought to be rid of your illusions of being an _immortal_, Harry Potter. You might have survived the Killing Curse, poison of a basilisk and what ever more, but you will die. Even if you die of old age, you will die". 

Harry began to laugh, much like Ron, Geran and Hermione. 

"See what I told you?" Geran chuckled. "She was, perhaps, being cryptic, but it was no lie, was it?" 

Harry nodded. Geran saw stuck some more casserole into his mouth while Harry considered this. Then a smile crossed Harry's lips. 

"You know, I don't think I'd even like being immortal" he said. "Sometimes I wish I had died when Voldemort shoot that curse upon me…". 

"Don't say his name!" Ron whined. 

"You know what, Ron?" Harry said, "I've met Voldemort. I'll say his name. I don't play for him by fearing his name. Do you?" 

"I… I suppose I should not" Ron said reluctantly. "You do keep saying Voldemort all the time". He whispered the 'Voldemort', but he did say it. 

Geran just shrugged. "Well, Voldemort or whatever…" he concentrated on eating his lunch. 


	10. Rivan Studies

Note: /Drasnian Finger-language is shown like this./ _Thankyou for reminding me of Crookshanks. I think I'll include him in this chapter..._

Rivan studies 

The corridor outside the Rivan Studies Class was nearly crowded with curious students who had all arrived early. None of them knew nothing of this new teacher and even less on the subject he was to teach. Even Hermione Granger had no preknowledge, since none was available, even though she had searched Hogwarts library to her best ability to find out something. When Holban arrived with Geran who had spent time with him, having tried in vain to find his classes but he had missed them. The other students seemed to envy Geran, but none spoke a word yet. 

Holban allowed the students enter before him and even take seats before he entered. And then, just when they all were in their places, he bowed. "Good afternoon, class" he said, as if to say his bow was intended to all of them, although Geran was certain it was for him, as the Keeper's Heir. 

As the class continued to chat with comments about Holban, the aged Rivan sat down and discussed with Geran in the Drasnian sign language. To the rest of them, it probably seemed that he was doing nothing but sitting in silence. If they happened to notice the wiggling of fingers, they thought he was being impatient. It went on for a while, but then the chatter died off, and a complete silence filled the room. 

Holban greeted the silence by standing up. Again, he addressed the class. "Just to make sure you're on right class: this is Rivan Studies", Holban told them. "Albus Dumbledore asked me to inform you of certain matters before we begin. One, Rivan Studies is not a subject that can be taken for Ordinary Wizarding Level. Instead of OWL, it is considered as Talent Over Average Degree, TOAD for short. 

"This TOAD-system occurs first time this year. The other TOADs can be gained in philosophy, sorcery and magical law. They are completely free to your choice and separate from your other systems. House-points shall not change during a TOAD-class. You are also free to attend or not to attend the class. 

Neville Longbottom relaxed at that declaration, as did many others. 

"Each of these TOAD-courses will have their own rules designed to assist your learning. To assist you best learn about Riva, this room, my office and appartment behind it are to be considered like they were of Rivan realm" Holban told the class aloud. A sort of scholarly embassy, if you will. I am, after all, teaching you Rivan customs and Rivan Laws - as well as Rivan history. I believe you will learn the customs best in practise". He glanced at Geran pleadingly. "Perhaps you'd like to act as an example of a proper Rivan, Geran?" he asked. 

"Whether I like or not" Geran told him, "I am a Rivan, and that means I _am_ an example of one. And so should you consider yourself, Holban". 

"That's one for you" Holban replied with a bow. "Do you have any suggestions as of where to begin?" 

"Creation" Geran replied./It will give us the chance to talk with Father before we get to mention the Orb/ 

"Ah, the beginning. Of course" Holban said. 

"Our World was created by Seven Gods named Aldur, Nedra, Torak, Issa, Chaldan, Mara and Belar. Details of that we do not know of, for they refuse to tell us. We do know that while they were creating life, they all gathered in one cave to discuss what they had done so it'd all be in harmony..." Holban went on describing the plants and animals on their World until the class was over. "Welcome back the next time" Holban told them and asked Geran to join him. 

Back at Holban's appartment, Holban showed Geran to the Mirror. 

"I just woke up, Geran" he said. "What's up with you, calling this early?" 

"It's the late twilight here, father" Geran said. "You know how it is. I don't see much sense for those expressions though. 'Time of day' as they say. Either it's always the wrong time or always the right time..." 

"Spare me, Geran" Belgarion said. "I've discussed with the tree as well. Now just tell me what's up with you?" 

"Oh, well... I'm getting a bit of trouble to get adjusted, Father" Geran said. "I don't understand these things called time-tables, and... well, basically, I don't get how their systems work." 

"Didn't you ask them to explain?" Belgarion asked. 

"They just get angry" Geran sighed. "They take the matter so for granted. They did call it a schedule, but... I want to get home, Father". 

"Now... don't give up, Geran" Father soothed. "You do realise I have a schedule, too?" 

"All it does is keep you from important matters - and you let it" Geran said. "I won't let that happen to me," he added stubbornly. 

Belgarion blinked as that struck him. "Important matters?" he repeated. 

"See what I mean?" Geran told him. "You don't even know what I'm talking about. We guard the Orb. We care for the people. We spend time with family. Anything else comes later. Seems like you put schedules first". He spoke the word 'schedules' like it was a curse word. 

"I see your point" Belgarion replied. "I'll see to that... I think I'll send my appointment secretary there to help you with your schedule. He'd be of most use that way. He can stay with Holban, but I suppose you'd better go tell Albus Dumbledore about it, too". 

"It shall be as my Father commands" Geran replied with a smile. Then he asked should he let people see his mark. 

"They'll notice sooner or later anyway" Belgarion told him. Then they discussed just how much there was to be told until the said scheduler came in. Belgarion gave him a few orders and just sent the fellow to Geran with a simple command. 

"Good night, Geran" Belgarion said. 

"And good day to you, father" Geran replied with a grin. 

The king's appointment secretary blinked at his surroundings. He was a bit shocked. "What- what happened?" he asked. 

"Father ordered you to come here to help me with my schedule, Dammion" Geran told him, "so you obeyed, of course". 

"Of.. of course, prince Geran" Dammion said, still a bit stunned. 

"Don't call me that in this World" Geran told him. "In here, I'm known as Geran Keeper. Preferably in quiet obscurity as my ancestors have done for well over thousand years. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Geran Keeper" Dammion stuttered. 

On their way to Dumbledore's office, they run into that blond boy, Malfoy. "Whose that, Geran?" Malfoy asked, pointing at Dammion. 

"My secretary, why?" Geran asked. "You don't have one?" 

"Students aren't allowed to have secretaries!" Malfoy snapped. 

"Oh, that's all right, I don't have secretaries, I have a secretary" Geran joked. 

Malfoy blinked at that. "Why, you little... you hand-maigned..." 

But Dammion struck him on mouth before he could finish or any other had time to react. "Don't you dare offend him like that... and don't you point at people with that stupid stick or I break it, hear?" 

Holban began to laugh. Magic or not, that blond boy could not fight against Rivan devotion. 

"You think it's funny, having Keeper's Heir be called insultive names, Tutor Holban?" Dammion demanded angrily while he was still hitting Malfoy. "Based on THAT mark?" 

"No, Dammion." Holban told him calmly, "that is not what I find funny". 

Minerva McGonagall walked to them, wondered what was going on and turned to Holban."Mr Holban, why do you just _laugh_, seeing this man beating a student?" she asked angrily. 

"It pleases me to see Rivan devotion beat magic," Holban told her, "and being a Rivan, I must ask you not to get involved in this chastisement of Draco Malfoy". 

"What in the World did he do to deserve that?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. 

"Gravely insulted an entire nation" Holban replied. 

"Well... don't you think he's had enough?" McGonagall asked him. 

"I cannot make that kind of decision," Holban said stubbornly. 

"And neither can I," Dammion said. 

Geran figured that it would be his to decide. Only trouble was that he didn't know how he would do that. 

McGonagall stared at him. "Well, Mr Keeper?" she said expectantly. "Can you put a stop to that violence or must I stupefy this... Rivan?" 

"I will hear now if Draco Malfoy has something to say, Dammion" Geran said, trying his best to sound like his father in the throne room when recieving subjects. 

Dammion stopped hitting the boy. "Draco Malfoy has permission to speak," he announced. 

Malfoy grunted and gave him a hard look. Then, being surrounded by Professor McGonagall, Holban and Dammion - he apologised and whined about bleeding. 

"Squeeze your nose thightly" Geran told him. "It'll help". 

McGonagall told him to go see Madam Pomfrey just in case. 

"What if it doefn't fdop" Malfoy whined. 

"Then you'll probably bleed to death" Geran replied calmly. 

Malfoy gave him a dubious look but did as he was told and left for infirmary, still holding his nose. "My father shall hear of this" he muttered on his way. 

"So will mine," Geran replied. 

McGonagall sighed. "I think you need to see Albus Dumbledore about this guest or what-ever.." she said. 

"We were on our way to do so when Draco Malfoy interrupted us, Minerva" Holban replied. "Now if you'll excuse us..." 

"Of course" McGonagall said. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Albus Dumbledore was having a family meeting with his twin brother and the 'Flamels', as they were currently known in the wizarding World, when Holban entered with Geran and Dammion. 

"Good evening, gentlemen" Holban greeted them. Then he introduced Dammion and told them why he was there. 

"Excellent, Geran" Aberforth said brightly. "You'll agree, Albus?" 

"Yes, I suppose so" Albus said. "I heard about your schedule - problem, indeed. Is there anything else?" 

"Just one matter for now, Albus" Holban said. Then he told them about the Malfoy incident. 

Albus frowned. "Such beating over an insult?" he said disapprovingly. 

"Not just any kind of insult" Holban replied. "He made an insult over Geran's brand". 

"And that cannot be left alone" Dammion put in stiffly. 

Aberforth's eyes widened. "I see", he said. "You're most graceful to let him off with only a beating". 

Albus wasn't convinced. "Why would you say so, Aberforth?" he asked. 

"Because I know what that mark means, Albus," Aberforth said. "It's more than just a hereditary birthmark". 

"What does it mean then?" Albus asked. 

"Duty" Geran replied. "The first and utmost duty. Everything in Riva exists for that duty, and every Rivan is devoted to that duty". 

"Or at least we should", Dammion said quietly, giving a rueful glance to Geran. 

"And if I'm right in guessing what that duty is", Belsambar said, "I believe I must agree, even though I disapprove all violence. Even Beldin wouldn't be insulting that!" 

"Who's Beldin?" Belsambar's wife asked. 

"One of my brothers, dear" Belsambar replied. "He's made insulting people into an art form. He thinks it shows out his wits. I remember the one time we all joined to help build his tower... he kept asking why we did that. So ready as he was to give love, he had great difficulty to accept love from others. I think that nothing has ever offended him more than people being nice to him." 

Perenelle nodded. "Such a tragedy" she said, "poor Beldin must have had a tough childhood". 

"I never asked, but I suppose so" Belsambar replied. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Holban walked Geran to his dormitory for good night with Dammion. "I shall see you after breakfast, Dammion" Geran said. 

"Of course, Prince Geran," Dammion replied. 

Geran sighed. "I believe I told you that royal titles aren't appropriate in this world, Dammion" he said. "You would do well to remember that my duties - and my father's orders - permit me to hold to Keeper only". 

Dammion bent his head. "Forgive me, Keeper's Heir" he said. 

Geran nodded in acceptance. 

"You did well, Geran" Holban said with approving smile. "My office shall, of course, be always open to you, should you need _help_ or wish my company for any other reason. I am here for you, remember that. Just say 'help' to my door". 

Geran nodded. "I will remember that, Holban" he said. "Good night". 

"Good night, Keeper's Heir" the two replied and stayed to watch as Geran gave the Fat Lady the week's password (at least Hermione had told him _that_) and went to his dormitory before they left. 

Inside, Geran met Hermione who looked worried for some reason. "Oh, you must come, I think your wolf and Crookshanks are about to have a fight and..." 

Geran followed her, wondering why wolf tould be fighting. Wolves never did fight without a reason, after all. 

"What is the matter?" Geran asked wolf - in wolvish, of course. 

"The fur ball has insulted one" Wolf replied indignantly. "It is only proper to tell it how one thinks of it". 

"Your cat insulted him" Geran told Hermione. "You'd better see that he behaves himself from now on". 

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked. 

"Wolf told me." Geran replied. "Can't you speak cat to ask Crookshanks what he thinks?" 

"no -- but how did you learn to speak Wolf?" Hermione asked, seemingly forgetting about the pet-fight. 

"My grandparents taught me for the most part" Geran shrugged. "And considering how the Wolf had been with me since I was two, I suppose I learned something from him, too". 

"Oh, all right..." Hermione said. She remembered all too well how she'd got into trouble for not believing Geran the last time. "You speak Wolf when you move your ears with your fingers, I take it?" 

Geran nodded. "I just never learned to move my ears without using my fingers" he said sullenly. "Wolf finds that manner ridiculous, but at least I can talk with him". 

Hermion began to laugh, seeing some invisible funny image. "You know, Geran - it is a ridiculous manner" she said. "But I suppose I'll take Crookshanks to my dormitory and try to teach him some manners". 

"The feline with your sister has much more manners than that fur ball" Wolf said. "He is not a full cat, either. He is half another creature with the build and move of a cat but different odor". 

"One shall ask the she more of that" Geran replied. "Perhaps knowledge of the other half will bring more understanding over the Feline". 

"The feline is not the only one with odd behaviour" Wolf replied. "The dog with the black-furred man-thing does not think like a dog, but like a man-thing". 

"One shall speak with the man-thing" Geran replied, "later. Now one needs rest". 


	11. Guess who is Slimehair?

_Sorry this has taken so long, but well, I had several technical problems, moving into different house during Summer (meaning no internet-connection at all...) Now, I hope I can put this on. I read OOP and had a bit of time getting over it and continue writing this._

Slimehair 

Geran woke to a feeling of briskly cold. He sat up, trying to find his blanket. When he found it, he noticed wolf sitting on it looking rather pleased with himself. 

"Man-things with curious beasts are awake" Wolf told Geran. 

Geran sighed and dressed up. As he left the bedroom, he saw Harry Potter coming down with other 5th-year Gryffindors. 

"Harry-- I need to discuss something important with you in private" Geran said. "It has to do with your dog". 

"All right" Harry said, "You guys go ahead. I'll see you at breakfast". Geran and Harry went to Harry's dormitory, where the big, black dog was waiting patiently. "Well?" Harry asked, sitting onto the bed. 

"I don't think he's a true dog, Harry" Geran said. "Wolf told me he thinks like a man...". 

As if to answer, the dog disappeared and a black-haired man took it's place. 

"He is better-looking as a dog" Wolf commented. 

"This is my godfather, Sirius Black" said Harry. 

"So - um- are you going dog just because you look better that way or is there another reason?" Geran asked. 

Sirius Black grinned at that question. "There is" he said and told Geran the story about being framed by Peter the rat and how they had nearly captured Peter. 

"So, um... if you happen to see a rat with a silver paw, Geran..." Harry said. 

Geran nodded. "Of course," he said. "Where do you live when you're not at Hogwarts, Harry?" 

"With my mother's sister and her family, the Dursleys." Harry replied. "I would leave them with joy if only...". 

Sirius put his arm around Harry's shoulder. Geran didn't hear what he was saying, but he could tell it was comforting Harry, and it was obvious Harry trusted Sirius - trusted like Geran had never trusted anyone. 

"What did these Dursleys do to you?" Geran asked. 

"Nothing" Harry said curtly. 

Geran's eyes widened at that. Nothing. That reminded him of Zandramas - after abducting Geran she had done nothing to him. Nothing - except the minimum so he didn't die... 

"Are you all right, Geran?" Sirius Black asked. 

"I'm fine. It was just a bad memory," Geran replied. "I understand that 'nothing', Harry. I know it can be terrible... Perhaps the _most_ terrible". 

"You know? But your parents are alive and care for you?" Harry asked, not quite understanding. 

"I was abducted when I was six months old" Geran said quietly. "It took my parents year and a half to find and rescue me. Zandramas was one of those nothing-doers. Aside from killing anyone who wasn't of use to her, that is". 

Geran looked at them thoughtfully. He couldn't bear the idea of what Harry had to go trough with those monsters he had for relatives when this man could be so much better. Maybe he could help. "All right-- who else knows your secret, Sirius Black?" Geran asked. 

Sirius gave him a list - a list including Dumbledores, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher and Madam Pomfrey. "And, as much as I hate Snape, Albus Dumbledore insists we are on the same side now. He knows, too" Sirius Black said. "Of our enemies-- Peter knows, of course - and I suppose he's told Lord Voldemort, but I know not how many others know". 

"I have a suggestion for you," Geran said. "We could go talk with my father after the philosophy class and see if you can have sanctuary in Riva so you two can have a break for the next vacation". 

"Your father has the authority to grant me _sanctuary?_" Sirius asked. "What is he - a minister or a king or a president?" 

"I trust you won't speak of my being royalty to others", Geran said quietly. "I'd prefer to have as much obscurity as I can". 

"Of course" Harry said with a grin. "And I trust you won't tell about Sirius to anyone except your father?" 

Geran nodded. "You can be there. Come with me to Holban's office after philosophy. He might hear, too - while he will follow _Rivan_ Laws to the letter, he is under no obligation to follow _yours_. Should my father grant sanctuary that would also bring Holban and Dammion into our group". 

Sirius Black nodded. The more people on his side, the better. And now this - a place where he could truly be at peace with Harry. It was almost too good to be true. He told Geran about the usual codes they used, and Geran accepted that with no question. 

"I'd like to know more about Riva, though" Sirius Black said. 

"Join Harry for Rivan Studies as a dog" Geran suggested. "I'll tell Holban to speed up with that history and move on to what we are now". 

"You're sure you can just tell him that and he'll obey you?" Harry asked in wonder. 

"Well, he did obey me when I told him where to begin, didn't he?" Geran grinned. 

Harry asked no more as he and Geran went to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

At breakfast, Dammion hussled over to Geran with a paper. "You have enough time to get a bath after you've finished eating, sir, then you're having two classes of Potions in.. can you believe it, in a _dungeon_. I suppose it's downstairs somewhere. I'll find out while you're bathing... Couldn't have you lost in this castle, no way..." 

Hermione glanced at Geran. "Who's that?" she asked. 

"Oh, Dammion? He just came here to help with my schedule" Geran replied. "I suppose you could say he's my appointment secretary". 

"You're full of surprises, Geran Keeper" Ron said. "Wouldn't have thought that someone can beat Malfoy in..." 

"Dammion literally did beat Malfoy, indeed" Geran muttered while stuffing bacon into his mouth. "I didn't find it very amusing". 

"What's this?" asked Fred & George Weasley in unison. 

"Well, Malfoy decided to insult me and Dammion began hitting him before he could say much" Geran shrugged. "Malfoy's nose was bleeding by the time he was stopped - and Malfoy apologised before going to infirmary saying something about his father hearing of it...". 

Most of the Gryffindors laughed at that. Hermione didn't, though. "You'll be in so much trouble" she said. 

"No, I won't," Geran told her. "For one thing, I did not _tell_ Dammion to hit him, I only stopped him. Second, I was with Holban when it happened. Third, Minerva McGonagall was also there, and fourth, both Dumbledores and two more teachers already know and since we're not in trouble now, I doubt we will". 

Hermione told him about the hate mail she'd recieved after bad publicity. "Malfoy might send you some as it is" she added. 

"Thanks for warning me", Geran said. "I'll burn any letters I get". 

With Dammion helping out, it was impossible for Geran to get lost, or even be late for class. So Geran ended up in the dungeon with his cauldron filled with the first year's potion kit in good time. 

"You have a Defence Against Dark Arts class after Potions, and then you'll have lunch" Dammion said, "I suppose I'd better tell you about your afternoon then..." 

There was lots of bickering about that among the students, but as soon as a man with a slimy hair came to his sight, staring at him, Geran heard nothing but the selfcongratulating hum he associated with the Orb. Geran dubbed the man Slimehair in lack of a better name, trying to figure out how he'd solve _this_ problem. Slimehair began to move his lips, but Geran could not hear him and had no idea what he was saying. Geran tried to tell him that, but the man paid no heed so Geran presumed Slimehair didn't hear him, either. 

Slimehair was apparently asking something, but as Geran didn't know how to read his lips, he had no idea what it was. Geran tried to tell of his problem in wolfish, reasoning that since there were wolves in here, that might pass the message. It didn't work. Slimehair's face became even more sour than it had been to begin with. 

Geran sighed. What was he to do now? Helplessly he watched as the others were writing something down, but Geran had no idea what they were writing. 

The door opened and Holban walked in. Geran felt an utter relief upon seeing Holban. Holban knew the Secret Language, after all. Indeed, Holban was already wiggling his fingers. 

_Don't worry, Geran_ Holban's fingers said, _I will see to this matter_. 

Holban said something to the Slimehair and turned to Geran. _We'd better leave the class room now, Prince Geran. To my office, perhaps?_. 

Geran nodded and followed Holban. The first word Geran heard, was "Help" - which Holban had chosen to be the password to his office. It didn't even require a wand. 

Geran asked about it. "I wouldn't want anyone in need for help having trouble to get in, Geran" Holban explained, "though I prefer my office not to be a common playground, either. You, of course, will always be most welcome". 

"I wonder what happened" Geran said after a while. "Since that Slimehair came close to me, all I could hear was the Orb's humming... or something like it". 

"That's something to discuss with your father. He's probably sleeping now, though, so we'll wait until this evening" Holban told him. "Meanwhile, I'd advice you to keep away from the Slimehair - and that means you're to drop potions." 

"That's probably enough" Geran said. Then, he tried something he never had before. "Do we really need to bother Father about it?" he asked. 

"Prince Geran, we most definately WILL inform the Keeper of the Orb of this sort of thing" Holban told him in firm tone. It was almost a reprimand, but not quite. 

Geran blinked. Holban had never spoken to him in that manner. He was still wondering what to reply, when Holban's face had smoothed already, as if he had got some idea to explain something. 

"Of course, you have every right to test my loyalty, my prince" he said. 

Geran blinked at that. "Test your loyalty?" he repeated. 

Holban looked at him silently for a moment. "Yes, Your Highness" he replied. "You see, any loyal subject would tell the Keeper. The Law insists we keep no secrets from him. Of course, someone might well seek to please you with a lie and tell your father anyway, but the question is, would you trust someone who'd lie to you?" 

"I suppose not" Geran said quietly. 

Holban looked at him. "Is there anything you think or feel I've done against you or your father? Something your father told you about, perhaps" he asked. Then he added quickly, "of course, if His Majesty told you not to tell, I have no right to know". 

Geran let out a sigh. He began to understand. "There is _something_, Holban" Geran said. "You're submissive to the point where my father finds it irritating. What's worse, there's nothing to get hold of". 

Holban sighed. "There are some who do that to show off, Prince Geran" he said. "I'm sorry it irritates your father, but as I do feel oblidged to do what ever he tells me to do, and I am ever awaiting for him to give me an order or even a request, so it would be dishonest to act any other way". 

Geran chuckled. "It is customary to show respect to the king, but the respect is more to the custom than the person who happens to hold the title" he said knowingly. 

Holban raised his eyebrow. "Where did you hear that?" he asked. 

"Father told me" Geran said with a shrug. "That's how he'd explain 'king' to a wolf. I had to ask it once...". 

Holban nodded. "Of course" he said. "One who has known both sorts of respect can well tell the difference". 

"I wonder what you would have said if you'd not known it was Father's idea" Geran said dubiously. 

"That whoever said it has a clear insight" Holban replied, raising his eyebrow. "Was there anything else your Highness needs to have cleared?" 

Geran sighed. "You... I... that Malfoy incident... I... well, why didn't you..." He couldn't finish it. 

"Didn't do what, Keeper's Heir?" Holban inquired. "What would you have expected me to do?" 

Geran sighed. He didn't really know."just... something" he said. "You should know father doesn't approve of hitting people, don't you?". 

Holban shook his head. "As I see it, both of you got a good lesson there" he said. "You had the experience of being in authority - and he, hopefully, learned not to insult people". 

"Why didn't you _tell_ me it was my decision?" 

"No one should EVER tell you to take charge in these situations, Prince Geran" Holban told him. "You need to learn how to take charge, Prince Geran. I just thought that stopping that hitting would be a fine start for it. And as he had insulted _you_, over the Brand of the Orb, I certainly had no place to interfere with your decision". 

Geran rolled his eyes. What didn't Holban turn into a lesson? That raised another question, though. 

"Do you arrange those lessons, Holban?" Geran asked. 

"no - but if life offers a good lesson to you, I'm not about to try and stop it" Holban replied. 

Geran gave his tutor a long glance. Then he grinned knowingly. "Well, since you're so keen on teaching me to take charge, Holban... skip the history and make your next lesson be about the present day Riva". 

"As you wish, my Prince" Holban replied with a florid bow. "May I know why this sudden change in plans?" 

"I'm planning on inviting some friends over -- with Father's permission, of course" Geran told him. 

"Thank you" Holban said smoothly. Then, with a grin he moved on. "Are you ready to go discuss our other change of plans with Minerva McGonagall now, before we have lunch?" 

Geran nodded. 

"You know, Holban" Geran said, shaking his head, "one of these days you've got to tell me of yourself". 

"Am I to take that as your command, Keeper's Heir?" Holban asked him. 

"You know I don't really want to take power", Geran said bitterly. 

"Yet you must be prepared to do so, just in case" Holban said, "As much we both hope that won't happen". Do you want me to join you for this discussion? 

"I suppose you'd better" Geran replied. 


	12. Discussions

Discussions 

'Yes?' Minerva McGonagall called when Geran knocked on her door, setting aside the _Transfiguration Today_ she had been reading.

'You tell her, Holban,' Geran said as they had entered.

'As you wish,' Holban replied obediently and turned to Minerva McGonagall. 'Geran was disabled to voice-based communication when that adult in the Potions class came too close to him.'

She frowned at that. 'Do you have any idea what caused that, Holban?' she asked.

'I cannot say for certain,'Holban replied evasively.

'What of you, Mr Keeper?' McGonagall asked, recalling the event when for some reason it had been this child to have the ability to do things that two adults could not.

Geran was silent a moment. The hum had to be the Orb - why it had done that? It didn't start until that Slimehair came... he felt certain it was something about that Slimehair - though he couldn't say exactly what.

'I- I think it has to do with Slimehair,' Geran began hesitantly. At McGonagall's frown he added: 'I only call him that for a description as I don't know his name.'

'That would be professor Severus Snape, I suppose,' McGonagall told him calmly. 'Are you certain the matter is to do with him?'

Geran frowned thoughtfully. He considered it. If it had been merely a contact, he would have been able to hear other things. He sighed. Then he remembered Sirius telling him how he loathed Severus Snape and a feeling of certainty filled him.'This matter has something to do with Severus Snape,'he told them.

'Are you certain of this, Geran?' Holban asked.

'More than I have ever been of anything, Holban,' Geran said.

'And just exactly what does this have to do with _professor_ Snape, Mr Keeper?' McGonagall asked him.

'No idea,' Geran told her, 'I just know it has _something_ to do with Severus Snape with absolute certainty.'

'That's ridiculous,' she snapped.

'Just because you don't understand, doesn't mean it's not so,' Geran told her calmly.

'Would you care to explain how can you be so certain of Snape's involvement, then?' she asked.

Geran frowned, wondering how to phrase the answer. His certainty itself meant something, and all this was probably similar to how his father had just known some things and that meant the realm of Necessity. Or the Orb. But the neither was clear to outsiders of his family - to non-Rivans in particular.

'I just know,' Geran shrugged.

'You mean you merely have a _hunch_ this has to do with him?' McGonagall demanded.

'I'm not so sure if hunch is the right word,'Geran replied. 'The ability to just know certain things... well, I'm not the only one who has it.' Geran thought about it. 'What of you, Holban?' he said then. 'Somehow you just knew I needed you down there, didn't you?'

'I did,' Holban replied. 'That, I believe, points to a certain source...'

Geran nodded. He himself couldn't tell if it was the Necessity, Orb, or even both, but it didn't matter - he'd have to obey the one setting this on her. 'I'll be dropping Potions and avoiding Severus Snape from now on,' he said calmly. 'at least until we can find out exactly what's going on here.'

McGonagall frowned. 'I can't permit that over this belief of yours,' she said. 'Potions is a part of official curriculum.'

Geran shrugged. 'I wasn't asking for permission,' he said. 'I was merely informing you of this fact.'

'Geran Keeper, students don't just come and inform their head of house about dropping classes,' she said sternly.

'Would you rather I just dropped them, ma'am?' Geran asked, 'and said no word to you?'

'Of course not,' she told him scruffly. 'I'm just saying that it's not for you to decide.'

Geran shook his head. 'I'm not. The one - or ones - that prevented me from all communication with Severus Snape decided it for me,' Geran told her. 'I'd sooner die than disobey that -- besides, I can hardly learn anything from this... Severus Snape... if I can't even communicate with him.'

She stared. 'Well, yes - I see you have a point there,' she finally gave up. 'We will need to inform your parents though,' she added.

'I'll handle that,'Holban said. 'Your owls won't be able to reach them -- I have a mirror.'

,'Very well,' she said. 'one task less for me.'


	13. Defence Against Dark Arts

Geran spent rest of the day at Holban's office. Dammion began to question the decicion about quitting a class totally. Mere mention of the Orb by Geran, however, cut him off short.

"We exist to serve the Orb", Dammion quoted the motto of the Isle of the Winds.

"You should _mean_ it, Dammion", Geran told him, "and to _live_ it."

"Yes, Keeper's Heir," said Dammion meekly. Then he changed the subject. "You will be going to the Defence Against Dark Arts class, won't you?"

"Of course I will," Geran told him.

The Defence Against Dark Arts was always an interesting subject, but the fact that their teacher, Aberforth Dumbledore, was brother to the headmaster, gained loads of talk amongst Geran's classmates.

Aberforth arrived and, curiously enough, decided to stand on his table. That in itself got everyone quiet and looking at him.

"Thank you for your attention," said Aberforth brightly. "And attention is preecisely what is most important thing of Defence Against Dark Arts. Any spell or knowledge you can learn from others, or from books will get you nowhere if you don't notice the Dark things that may kill you. Even most powerful wizards get easily hoodwinked with their noses in the book all the time."

"Your brother would notice though, wouldn't he?" asked one of the Weasleys.

"Don't count on it," said Aberforth seriously. "As much as my brother likes to go on invisible, he's often quite blind to other disguises - which, of course, leads to this year's subject, disguises. It was only Last Year Polyjuice Potion hoodwinked my brother - a Death Eater was hired as a teacher. The one he was supposed to be - Alastor Moody, would have been all right, but it wasn't Moody, but someone using Polyjuice Potion pretending to be."

Aberforth went on for a while, how no one had really noticed the switch until a student had died, and then, quite suddenly, got a firm grip on what seemed to be empty air. "Show yourself," Aberforth said loudly. To everyone's surprise, Albus Dumbledore appeared right under Aberforth's hand, held tightly by his brother.

"You just never get it, do you, Albus?" said Aberforth offhandedly. "I've broken your nose twice to get you out of that invisibility-trick of yours, and you _still_ think I won't notice?"

Aberforth went on, telling the kids how Albus had tried to cheat by becoming invisible when the two them had been playing hide-and-seek as children.

"I prefer to call it equalizer to your seeking-skills, Aberforth," Albus smiled.

Aberforth nodded and talked about three students who became Animagi without his brother noticing.

"And I don't know if it's their skill at sneaking or my brother's lack of noticing," he finished the story. "So all of you, keep your eyes open for anything suspicious. You, as first-year students are likely to be underestimated by the sneakers, therefore at the best position to notice something. And that's the end of this class."


	14. Philosopher's lesson

Chapter 13 - Philosopher's lesson 

The days wore off. Geran found most of his lessons interesting, but thought that Herbology was highly useless to him, as the plants they studied there, did not exist in his World at all. One lesson, however, he had high hopes for: philosophy,. After all, Belsambar – or Nicolas Flamel as he called himself here – was of his world, and being the first to enter this one, was one to answer several questions.

First one to address the teacher, however, was Hermione.

"Professor, would you tell us of the philosopher's stone," she asked, "you are the only known person to have created it, after all."

"Ah that one," said Belsambar with amusement in his voice, "is much overrated as such, but it does provide a decent start, indeed. Many know that the stone allows one to turn lead into gold and to produce elixir of life. What they don't know is that the stone is merely a side-product of something much more valuable."

"More valuable than ability to make as much gold as you want?" Ron interjected.

"The main part of the process of creating the stone is purification of the soul – which, incidentally, rids you of the desire to be rich. And only one willing more to purify his soul than getting what many imagine the stone will grant, is able to create the stone. And the process of turning lead into gold costs more than it gives."

"What of the Elixir of Life, then?" asked Harry.

"Long-evity is overrated," Belsambar said. "The loss of people you've known and loved, the boredom when one century follows another and nothing changes..."

The discussion went on and on until Belsambar called it a time. Most left, but Geran stayed behind. "There's something I wanted to ask you, Belsambar," he said. "About the time you... left. Belgarath said you willed yourself out..."

"As you see, my brother erred," Belsambar said. "Not that it's entirely his fault – after Torak broke the world, I faked it so – with Aldur's help. _He_ had told us that it was necessary for the others to believe so until the Choice was made."

"Oh. And Belmakor then?"

"You know we can sense each other, me and my brothers? Belmakor was always the most sensitive to that, Geran, so he knew I wasn't as gone as the others believed. It took him a while, but he managed to persuade Aldur to tell him where I was. Then he came here to find me. But now it's time for you to go to bed, Geran, it's getting late."


	15. Magical Theory

Before heading to bed, however, Geran knew he had to talk to father about that strange shield surrounding him at Potions

_Sorry it's taken so very long. I was having a major writer's block, having no idea how to keep going. Anyway, I got over and now here we go._

Before heading to bed, Geran knew he had to talk to father about that strange shield surrounding him at Potions. He also had lots of questions popping into his head, what with the lessons he had at Hogwarts – nothing like what existed in Riva – or anywhere in his world for that matter. So far as he knew, anyway. Holban had been a wizard for a long time, though, so he might be able to answer all the questions.

Geran walked up to Holban's office, spoke the password and entered. Holban greeted him warmly. First things first, they contacted king Belgarion with the magic mirror.

"So, do you still have trouble with your schedule, Geran?" Belgarion asked.

"No, Dammion's been a great help, thank you." Geran replied. Then he told his father about the odd shield and what they had done with the matter so far.

"That's quite odd, indeed," Belgarion said thoughtfully. "Unrak has not been turning into bear lately, so it wasn't anything life-threatening. I'd like to know what it was this Snape-person was doing, however. I suppose that's for Holban to find out."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Holban replied obediently.

"Well, we mustn't keep Geran up for too long," Belgarion said. "Good night to you."

"Tell Mother I said hello, Father," Geran said, "And have a good day."

Holban added his complimentary greetings and Belgarion closed the contact.

Geran turned to Holban. "I wonder why this wizarding thing happened, Holban," he said. "All of it, I mean, none like this exists back home. You're a wizard, but..."

"It's all about history, Geran," Holban replied. "I myself went to study with Vordai the witch at the fens. But my only objective was to learn how to control my magic so I wouldn't use it. You do remember that witchcraft was banned by law until your father lifted it of late, don't you?"

"Yes." Geran replied.

"And I suppose that many wizards and witches did the same, hiding their magic totally, so that none knew who they were, not even others with magic. Vordai was exposed by her lover, so she's been known – only one, except maybe for the Dalish ones in Kell," Holban explained, "Here, wizards formed a community of their own instead, all being willing enough to continue their magic like Vordai. Here, inventions in magic, where made, also spread. Wand was one of them, and it just wasn't invented in our world. That's why they may seem different, but still, according to _Magical Theory_, it's the same power."

Geran frowned. "Yes, well, but.." he hold it a moment, "why did _I_ become a wizard?"

"We can ask 'why me?' as many times as we like, but the answer is never given," Holban told him wisely. "Might as well quit asking that, don't you think?"

"I didn't mean it that way," Geran said. "I just wonder, why wizard and not sorcerer like father?"

"From what I hear, you're still too young for sorcery, Geran," Holban replied. "You might as well be both. Traing your mind to magic might even help when you do get your will."

"I suppose," Geran said reluctantly. It wasn't quite what he expected. He yawned and Holban decided to walk him back to the dormitory, just so Geran wouldn't be in trouble for being out after the curfew.

"Just do you best in all you can to serve the Orb, Geran," Holban told him with a soothing voice. "Learn what you can here, so you can use it for Riva and the Orb."

"I will, Holban," Geran said. "Good night."

"Good night, Geran. Sleep well.

"You too."

Geran fell asleep almost as soon as he got himself to bed.

The next morning at breakfast, Dammion declared he had the whole day off except for meals. "And tomorrow too," he added. "Just attend to meals."

"That sounds nice," Geran said. "Poor Father never had the whole day off."

"Your father would have told me so if he had wanted a day off, Mr Keeper," Dammion said indignantly.

Geran grinned. "Maybe, Dammion, maybe", he said.

Geran spent the morning with Wolf, wandering around the grounds, learning to know Hogwarts. He was moodily watching the lake when, suddenly, someone tapped his shoulder.

"Belar!" Geran let out, jumping up, and turning. It was Hermione.

Hermione grinned. "Sorry to scare you, Geran," she said. "I was wondering if you could take me to Professor Holban's office, I understand you go there all the time."

Geran frowned at the question."Why do you want to go there?" he asked.

"I just wanted to ask him something, that's all," Hermione said evasively.

"Don't you know where it is?" Geran asked, "I would have thought you knew this place inside and out, having been here four years and more."

"Well, not which office belongs to Holban, no," Hermione said. "And you probably know even the password."

Geran agreed, not knowing how to politely refuse, and led Hermione to the door of Holban's office. Then he stopped. Wasn't for him to give out other people's passwords, was it?

"You knock," he told Hermione.

Hermione obeyed silently. Holban opened the door and allowed them in. Before Hermione could say anything, Holban asked Geran why he hadn't just used the password.

"I figured it wasn't for me to let _her_ know it," Geran replied, gesturing at Hermione with his head.

"Most thoughtful of you, Geran" Holban replied courteously. Then he turned to Hermione. "And what did _you_ wish for, young lady?"

_OK, now you. Probe me with questions Hermione could ask in the Review._


	16. Hermione asks questions

_No suggestions to Hermione's question? Must make it up myself, then…_

"Well, I wanted to ask you…" Hermione began hesitantly.

"Go ahead, young lady," Holban said encouragingly.

Geran sat down on a nearby chair, causing Hermione to remember her question when Holban didn't even react to such breach of etiquette.

"Just what is your relationship with Geran?" Hermione asked then.

"I'm his teacher," Holban replied simply. "What else did you want to know?"

"You're closer to him than to the other students," Hermione pointed out. "There must be more."

"We're both Rivans, and I've been his tutor since he was about seven," Holban replied.

"Then explain how come he doesn't understand clock," Hermione said.

"That's simplicity in itself," Holban said, "clocks do not exist in our World."

Hermione blinked. What ever she had expected to hear, it wasn't this. No clocks at all. Well, one can't learn clock if none exists, of course, but… But it made no sense. But it was the only good explanation. But… Hermione shifted between the buts, trying to understand. Holban gave her time while Geran grinned knowingly.

/She's having a hard time believing what she hears, I think/ Geran's fingers told Holban.

/I agree, Keeper's Heir/, Holban replied. /Good thing he came to ask me instead of you, though, don't you think. She'll have a harder time calling a teacher a liar, I'd say/.

Geran and Holban kept discussing secretly with their fingers while Hermione stood quietly in a state of shock. She sat down, still caught in-between the buts. Then, finally, she came into some sort of conclusion, nodded and said, very quietly: "Thank you, sir. I believe that clears it all." She left.

"Do you think she believed the truth of the matter or think you a liar?" Geran asked Holban.

"I'm not certain," Holban said truthfully. "It's really hard to say what goes on in the head of an adolescent girl."

"Aunt Pol would know, I think," Geran said thoughtfully.

"That's because she's a woman," Holban replied calmly. "She's been there, you know."

"Do you suppose you could ask Wyndelin or someone?" Geran asked.

"That'd be breaching the line, Geran. You ask your mother."

"Mother doesn't spend time studying people," Geran countered.

"Well ask your Grandmother then, or the Lady Polgara next time you see. They're relatives to you, so it wouldn't breach the line of propriety."

"They're so old, do they even remember?" Geran complained.

"Don't shoot your arrows before you see the bird, Geran," Holban told him, "and it's not polite to make comments about Ladies' ages."

"Fine, I ask them!" Geran said.

"Good," Holban said. "Well, I'll see you later."

Geran went up to the Gryffindor Tower, and found Wolf on his bed after getting out of the shower.

"One likes this den," wolf said sleepily.

"One likes it, too" Geran replied. "Will other move?"

"No." said Wolf, and continued to sleep lazily.

Geran was too tired to think of anything clever to reply, so he tried to fit himself onto the bed with the Wolf. Wolf nuzzled his nose over Geran, tickling Geran's foot. Geran chuckled and tried to get into a good position to sleep. Finally he fell asleep.


	17. The weekend

_Sorry it's taken me so long, but here finally goes…_

Week of school was over, and it was what they called a weekend. Most of the students were happy the schoolwork was over, but for Geran it was odd. He had done the homework the day it was given due to Holban's advice and notifications of his father: do it as soon as you can or it just piles up.

Growing up in Riva, where most people were devoted to duty, and even those who weren't devoted, never _really_ took a day off. There was no difference in Riva to the days of week – week was just a period to help count the days, and that was all. Here, weeks had, it seemed, a beginning day called Monday or Moon-day as Hermione had explained it's etymological origin, and TWO ending days, Saturday and Sunday, both of which were days off.

Geran was at a loss on what to do. He pondered it a while. Why couldn't they have lessons all seven days of week? These free days were somewhat pointless to Geran. He looked around the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron were playing some sort of board game, magically enchanted so they gave orders instead of moving the pieces themselves. And the pieces sometimes argued back to Harry, but never to Ron. Geran moved closer. "What kind of game is that?" he asked when Ron's piece mashed Harry's.

"Wizard's Chess," Ron replied. "I could teach you how to play later. Now I'm going to beat Harry."

"No, you're not," Harry told him brightly and told one of his pieces to move. It went obediently, without arguments for once.

Hermione was reading. Geran took a peek at the title: "The magic of numbers". He decided not to bother Hermione, and moved on to see what the others were doing. Some were doing homework; some others were playing or reading. Some girls were chatting with each other. Nothing to get Geran involved. He didn't know how to play; he had done his homework; he had nothing to read – and joining into a girls' chat was farthest from what he wanted to do. He could have talked with wolf, of course, except there was nothing to discuss. Geran had never felt so lonely and bored in his entire life. He sighed and decided to go up and meet with Holban.

The old Rivan had also decided to read, but laid down his book and stood up as soon as Geran entered. "How may I help, Geran?" Holban asked pleasantly.

"This weekend-thing is boring," Geran complained. "I can't think of anything to do."

"Well, I didn't invent it," Holban said, "but it gives us a chance to discuss things the Rivan way."

"What do you mean, the Rivan way?" Geran asked.

"No clocks," Holban replied, smiling. "That way there's the time and space for devotion."

"It's not like the other countries back home have clocks either," Geran countered. "They don't exist in the entire World".

"Ah, but think of it. Most would accept clocks to set more meetings and be more punctual. Then there would be the demand for more punctuality and more meetings. Everyone would be far too busy to have time for anything that really matters." Holban explained calmly. "If you try to cut _time_ into little pieces, it's _you_ who gets cut up by stress in the end, not having enough _time_."

"Do you think that's why they invented the weekend? To get a little rest from cutting up the time?"

"Yes. And they have vacations and that sort of things, too – longer periods of time off." Holban replied. "But humans being what they are, they've built scheduled times for vacations as well for some reason. Clocks just aren't good for people."

Geran was silent, letting the lesson sink in. Holban quietly seated himself, not wanting to disturb the process. They sat in silence, letting the time pass in between them. Their quiet thinking was, however, interrupted by Dammion's muttering.

"I'll go talk to that Albus Dumbledore about this," Dammion muttered, "two days with no lessons at all, what kind of school is this?"

"You won't go, Dammion," Geran told him in a surprisingly firm tone for one so young.

"And why not, Geran Keeper?" Dammion demanded.

"Because the Keeper's Heir told you not to," Holban told him calmly when Geran couldn't answer. "Besides, Albus and Aberforth have left Hogwarts for some urgent business."

Dammion blinked. Then he shrugged. "Well, Holban, if _you_ say so," he yielded, "you're the one who's responsible for the young man's education."

Geran, though, felt miserable. Why had he been left speechless at Dammion's words? Why? Why Dammion so honoured _Holban_ now?

Holban laid a hand on Geran's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Geran," Holban said softly. "Your command was well presented and Dammion should have obeyed without question. You are the only Branded One here, after all."

"Well… why didn't it happen that way?" Geran asked. "And why did he suddenly yield to _you_?"

"For one thing, in this school, you're one of the students and I am one of the teachers. You are, due to being less than seventeen, considered under age in this world, or, a child." Holban began. "And you don't really want to be different than other students, do you?"

Geran shook his head. He didn't want to, but he _was_ different.

"Dammion has adapted himself into this world of clocks and schedules. In this world, being well over seventeen, he's an adult. And children cannot give orders to adults. That's why he responded so rudely to you. But I was old back when he was a child, so here I am more of an adult than he is. In Riva it's a matter of calling to the service of the Orb not age that tells the difference between adult and a child – I myself, though I was older than any Rivan, was considered not much more than a child until I found my calling: as your teacher I serve the Orb."

"And Dammion?" Geran asked.

"He works as a scheduler and tries to make it his calling, but it's not. Not yet, anyway. Thus, in Riva, he would be more of a child than you are, as Keeper's Heir. Also, as he well knows, it is a grave insult to interfere with a calling."

"I see," Geran said. "What of me, then?"

"Your calling is clearly known, but not yet in full force. That puts you in-the-between. Acting by the calling you're to be honoured as an adult would, not acting by the calling you're to be treated as the child you act like."

Dammion had listened quietly to Holban's explanations. He knelt to Geran and apologised for his behaviour. "I shouldn't let this place make me forget the Rivan ways, Keeper's Heir," Dammion said quietly. "I apologise for my rudeness to you."

Weight had left Geran's heart. Happily he accepted Dammion's apology.


End file.
